


An Alchemist's Offering

by HomunculusTrashParty



Series: Paying Tribute to the King [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, brutal blowjobs, slight breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:25:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3457271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomunculusTrashParty/pseuds/HomunculusTrashParty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kimblee puts his creativity to use in service of the Fuhrer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Alchemist's Offering

“You say you want to do what, now?” His voice held subdued interest.

“Pay tribute, Your Excellency,” the Crimson Alchemist purred, voice deep and reverent.

King Bradley scanned Kimblee, looking for telltale markings of ill intent or betrayal. He found none. No hidden weapons, no transmutation circles but for the ones tattooed on Kimblee’s palms, and there was no way he’d be stupid enough to try his alchemy in here.

“Very well,” Bradley murmured idly, arranging a few files and clearing them from his desk. “What was it you had in mind? And what is it you hope to gain from me, alchemist? My good favor? For me to grant you full pardon from your prison sentence? You know I can’t just release a war criminal, Kimblee. I need a reason. Give me one and we’ll talk. After your… tribute, of course.”

“You misunderstand me, sir. I hadn’t hoped to gain a thing. I simply wanted to show my gratitude for how gracious Your Excellency has been in the past.” Kimblee took a deep bow.

Bradley smirked internally, his face impassive. He knew flattery when he heard it, but he wasn’t about to refuse whatever Kimblee had in mind. “Go on.”

Zolf J. Kimblee took a few steps forward until he was at the front of Bradley’s desk, leaning against it in a way that was inviting without being disrespectful. “Do you ever get lonely at work? Maybe you don’t get enough time with your wife? Or enough ‘alone time’?”

The filthy grin he wore piqued Bradley’s interest. He sat with his hands folded on his desk, eye half-lidded in contemplation. “On occasion. Very rarely. I am, perhaps, not quite the sexual being you imagine me to be. But even an old man such as myself has desires... and needs.”

“Then allow me to satisfy them, sir,” Kimblee offered humbly, one hand on his heart.

Bradley cackled. “Well, if that’s what you want. I make no promises of restitution, however, no matter how good you might be.” He stood to his full height, pushing back his chair and circling around his desk to meet Kimblee.

“I assure you, I am very good,” Kimblee replied, pleased with himself. “How do you want me to do this? Do you want me on my knees, right here? I humbly suggest that you sit, though... it could get a little, uh, intense.”

Bradley raised an eyebrow. So the Crimson Alchemist thought he was that good a lay, huh? He’d see about that.

At Kimblee’s suggestion he leaned back against his desk, after carefully laying his uniform jacket over the arm of his chair. His fingers glanced over his white dress shirt before falling on his belt, unbuckling it and opening his pants to Kimblee’s hungry gaze. So, he did want this; it wasn’t just a plot to get out of prison. Or if it was, it was one that made use of his desire.

Bradley took out his cock without preamble, and Kimblee took his place on his knees, a very pleasant sight indeed. While Kimblee had always been a bit of a wild card on the battlefield, he had never been insubordinate in any way. It was almost a shame; Bradley would have enjoyed reasserting dominance over someone so chaotic. Perhaps that was what he was doing right now, he mused, easing his uniform trousers down just enough to give Kimblee access. He’d noticed the red glint on Kimblee’s tongue, but he wasn’t sure exactly what he hoped to accomplish with the Stone in the middle of Bradley’s office with two armed guards waiting outside for him.

Kimblee took Bradley in hand, stroking him hard with ease. Bradley allowed himself to tilt his head back slightly, baring his neck almost as a dare. “I see this isn’t your first time with another man,” he observed, as Kimblee’s practiced, long glides over his cock made him swell.

“Definitely not, Your Excellency. Not with so many fine soldiers in the Amestrian military,” he added smugly, clearly proud of his conquests.

“I’d add sodomy to your list of crimes, Kimblee, but it’d make me a hypocrite,” Bradley cracked, voice deepening even further as he enjoyed Kimblee’s firm grip on his cock. “Go on, then.”

“Very well. I won’t keep you waiting,” Kimblee purred, dipping his head down to lick at the tip. “It’s quite a view, you know. Hard to not want to stare…” He held Bradley’s cock at the base with one hand and treated him to a long lick all the way up and across the slit.

Suddenly Bradley felt something pulse strongly through his blood. It had to be the Stone—just what did Kimblee have in mind, here? “I’m warning you, if you try anything—”

“Soldier’s honor, Your Excellency, I mean no harm whatsoever. What can I say? I’m a creative guy in the bedroom,” Kimblee rasped before taking Bradley all the way into his throat in one smooth motion, the Stone held securely under his tongue. Kimblee’s lips twitched, as though the gasp for breath from the Fuhrer was worth any potential punishment. He breathed in Bradley’s scent through his nose, face nestled in thick, dark hair.

Bradley fought to be expressionless, to keep that aura of control and fear that had made him so formidable on the battlefield and in politics, but he failed; the Stone was too powerful, its hold on him too strong. With every bob of Kimblee’s head, every slide of his tongue Bradley could feel the Stone pulsing in his blood, beating and flowing south, as he felt himself grow thicker and harder than he ever had in his life. His head fell back, and he knew Kimblee could hear his harsh breathing as his hips moved of their own accord, matching Kimblee’s motion.

Kimblee broke his rhythm to speak with a teasing lick along the ridge. “You could drive this thing through a brick wall, Your Excellency. So virile for your age. Your lucky wife.”

Bradley was panting, the sudden lack of sensation almost painful. “Get back to it,” he growled.

Kimblee looked like he wanted to laugh, but very wisely refrained from doing so. With a genuflecting bow of his head he cleared his throat and slowly devoured Bradley’s cock again, with playful little swipes of his stone-enhanced tongue. Without conscious thought Bradley’s hands found themselves with a vice grip on his long black ponytail, fingers flitting along his neck, feeling himself through Kimblee’s throat. A deep rumble replaced what Bradley imagined would be more praise, and for once he wished he could hear him talk as well as feel that tight heat swallowing him.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, soldier?” A slight groan was all he needed to hear to confirm it. “How long have you wanted to do this to me?” he asked, voice thick with lust. It was a rhetorical question, of course, but Bradley was curious nonetheless. “Have you ever thought of me while you touch yourself, Kimblee?”

Oh, that did it. There was the strangled moan Bradley was seeking, and the increase in pace and tightness accompanying Kimblee’s arousal. Bradley felt himself throb with the power of the Stone; it made him so much more sensitive, made the tension in his groin climb and climb long after the orgasm such stimulation would normally provide.

“I’ll make you an offer. You have my permission to do it right here and now, so long as you make sure to get me off first. I won’t even complain about you staining my rug.”

Kimblee responded by opening his pants in record time, pulling out his stiff cock and giving it a few long strokes that made Bradley groan at the sight. He was fairly hung, Bradley noticed, as he watched the long pulls turn into short, fast jerks. “It’s a shame you won’t be fucking me, isn’t it, soldier? I’m sure the men in my military who had the privilege enjoyed it immensely.”

Bradley tugged hard on Kimblee’s hair as his hips started to move, slowly at first, as he fucked Kimblee’s throat. A pleasured grunt told him this was welcome, and he held nothing back. He gripped Kimblee’s head in one hand, the other moving to his neck, where Bradley could feel his shaft bulging under the skin. He pressed his palm firmly to the spot and hissed at the sensation. Kimblee’s eyes watered with the strain of it, but Bradley ignored him; if he wasn’t choking there was no need to stop, and he wasn’t even sure he could.

“Does the Stone affect you, too?” He was panting openly, the brutal face fuck driving him close to the edge. He could feel Kimblee moan around him, the vibrations of his lips tantalizing him.

That was a yes, then.

Bradley looked into Kimblee’s watery eyes, saw fire and defiance even amid the submission, and imagined how sweet it would be to take his life, right now, before he even had a chance to come. He longed to find out... but Kimblee was too useful, both as a living weapon and a fuck toy. Would his cock start spurting cum by itself, even after Kimblee lost his head to Bradley’s blade? The thought drove him right over the edge, his only warning a hard pull of Kimblee’s hair and a sharp cry that gave way to a series of deep grunts as he spent his load down Kimblee’s throat. He could feel his cock pulse and jerk with every shot, as the Stone drew what felt like his very life essence out of him, draining him, satisfying him in a way he’d never known possible.

When he finally stopped trembling Bradley released him and pulled out slowly. Kimblee took a huge, noisy breath before tossing his head back, groaning his orgasm to the ceiling as he coated his hand and shirt with white. Bradley watched hungrily as Kimblee worked himself dry, hand slowing and savoring every stroke, face red with arousal and the sudden rush of oxygen. Bradley leaned in, with a few more drops on the head of his cock that he brushed against Kimblee’s open mouth. He licked them off dutifully, and when the alchemist finally caught his breath he stood, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and cleaning himself up as Bradley tucked himself back into his pants.

“Was it good for you, too?” Kimblee drawled, that self-assured smirk back on his face almost instantly.

Bradley allowed himself a smile. “Exceptional. I must commend you on your... interesting new use for the Philosopher's Stone. But I must warn you...

“If you’re thinking of exploiting my enjoyment of our activities today as a so-called weakness, there are two things you need to know. One is that while many men can become enslaved by sexuality, I am not one of them, because I am not human. While I feel desire and take pleasure in this, I am not motivated by it as an end in itself. The second thing is that I will have you executed immediately—regardless of your usefulness to me, sexual, alchemic or otherwise—if you even go so far as to imagine betraying my trust. Is that clear, Crimson Alchemist?”

“Crystal, Your Excellency,” Kimblee replied triumphantly. “But do know... my Stone and I are your willing partners whenever you so desire, sir.”

Bradley nodded. “Dismissed. Back to your cell.”

Kimblee bowed and made his exit.

King Bradley returned to his desk, sitting down and allowing himself a few deep breaths as he steadied himself with one hand. Despite his release, his blood was still on fire, and would be until the beating of the Stone settled. Opening his date book, he made a few small marks a week or two from now, a reminder to find Kimblee wherever he might be. Perhaps next time he’d be willing to let Bradley fuck him on the battlefield; after all, if he’d been born to fight animals, there was no shame in behaving like one. Bradley didn’t believe in shame anyhow; that was Pride’s concern. All he had ever known was the next fight, the next battle, the next kill, the next victory; and he, Wrath the Furious, would claim them all.


End file.
